Zephyr Passing
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: The death of a native islander leaves behind both mysteries and insight. Follows 'Out of Time'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _This story fits in with chapters 6 and 8 in my FictionPress project,_ Bloom for Me. _Since Mateo became something of a major character, I had to deal with the events alluded to in those chapters, and I hope I've done a decent enough job with it. It carries some relevance with me since I learned just a week ago that my own father is dying of cancer. I hope to have as positive an outlook after my own loss. Thanks as ever to my faithful readers and especially the reviewers._

* * *

§ § § -- January 25, 2005

"Malaria?" Leslie said, staring at Anna-Kristina in shock. "Mateo has malaria? You can't be serious!"

"It's true," the princess said softly, biting her lip and staring pleadingly at her aunt. "I have to go to Australia—I promised more than a month ago, before Mateo fell ill. Briella and my cousins are all going to be there, and I haven't seen them in long enough that I wanted to join them there and help them make goodwill appearances for Australia Day there—that's tomorrow. But that was before Mateo got sick. Our doctor's been trying to treat him at home, but he insisted yesterday that Mateo be checked into the hospital, because he doesn't seem to be getting any better."

Leslie blew out her breath and shook her head slowly. "What an awful situation."

"I can't go, Aunt Leslie," Anna-Kristina insisted. "I know I promised the others, but I can't go, not with Mateo like this."

"Does he know you were supposed to go?" Leslie asked.

"Of course, he was going with me. Or he meant to, at least, before Uncle Christian explained that he was going to be away setting up that branch in Santi Arcuros. You know he hates to leave the office like that, if Uncle Christian isn't there…though I suppose it could be seen as an excuse, because he's done it before…" She shrugged and fell silent.

Leslie was quiet for a few minutes. She knew how malaria was transmitted—through the bite of an infected mosquito, but not through the air—so that Mateo could have visitors when he was strong enough to see them. She had no doubt someone at the office, if not Anna-Kristina herself, had informed Christian of the goings-on, so that he was aware of Mateo's condition. She thought Anna-Kristina should stay, but she also remembered that he had been to Lilla Jordsö once—just before his wedding to Anna-Kristina—and had returned observing that his wife's home country was pretty but penetratingly cold. He also hadn't liked the inevitable publicity that surrounded them in the wake of the announcement that one of the country's princesses was getting married, and ever since then had gently declined to accompany Anna-Kristina whenever she went back to her birthplace.

Finally she looked up. "Tell you what, why don't we go see Mateo, and you can ask him," she said. "Frankly, I agree with you about staying here, but you know how Mateo is. Let's check with him. I can drop off the triplets at the main house, and Natalia can stay as well—Mariki and the staff love an excuse to entertain the rug rats."

About half an hour later Leslie and Anna-Kristina made their way down a hall at the hospital and let themselves quietly into the room Mateo had been ensconced in. He was awake, though he looked thin and exhausted and pale; he smiled when he saw them. "Hello, Miss Leslie," he murmured. "Come sit here, my Anna-Kristina."

Leslie took a chair; Anna-Kristina settled on the side of the bed. "How do you feel?" she wanted to know.

Mateo peered up at her. "No different," he said. "Shouldn't you and Natalia have left for Canberra by now?"

"I can't go!" Anna-Kristina protested. "Not when you're so sick!"

Mateo looked reproachful. "You need time with your family," he scolded. "You can't make a promise that you'll go and see them while they're in Australia, then back out of it with no warning. And I know you're lonely for them, and you'd love to be able to speak in your native language for a while. Didn't you say you'd like Natalia to learn it too?"

"Mateo, my heart, it'd be a different story if you hadn't fallen ill," Anna-Kristina said. "I just don't feel right about going away, not when you're this sick and there's no one to come and see you."

"There are plenty to come and see me," he contradicted dryly. "Every day I get three hospital meals; once an hour a doctor or nurse checks me or changes my IV bags; nurses come in and help me walk when I need to visit the restroom, give me sponge baths…"

Leslie grinned, and Anna-Kristina gave him a glare. "You know what I mean, Mateo Apana," she said, disgusted. "I know you don't have too many close friends here, and if Natalia and I are away, what family is left to visit you?"

"I'm sure the others from Christian's office will come, even if they do it only in order to keep Christian informed of my condition," Mateo said, "and Miss Leslie and Mr. Roarke probably will stop in and visit when they can. They'll be able to tell either you or Christian what sort of progress I'm making. Anna-Kristina, all you do anymore is stay at home and care for Natalia, ever since you quit your job after she arrived last year. You never seem to get out and do anything, even just to visit people—including Christian and Miss Leslie. E-mail is nice, but it doesn't substitute for actual contact. If you refuse to go and meet your sister and cousins in Canberra, and try to visit me, I'll leave strict orders with the doctors and nurses here not to let you into this room."

"You couldn't," Anna-Kristina said. "You wouldn't."

"I would," Mateo said flatly. "Go, and I mean it. It'll do you good to get away. And you never know—when you return I could very well be back on my feet and as good as new again. Natalia should have a chance to get used to the family, and be presented to your country's people—she _is_ a princess, after all. I mean it—I want you to go."

"Suppose…?" Anna-Kristina began, but let her voice trail off.

Mateo grimaced. "You do enjoy entertaining the worst-case scenario, don't you, my Anna-Kristina. If I know that you're enjoying your time with the family and giving our little girl a chance to know her mother's family, I'll be able to put more energy into getting well again. For the last time, go." He rolled his head on the pillow till he was facing Leslie. "Miss Leslie, will you please see to it that she gets on that plane with Natalia?"

Leslie grinned and playfully saluted him. "On the double, admiral. The next charter leaves within the hour, so I suggest you finish the discussion so we can get Anna-Kristina and Natalia ready for their trip."

‡ ‡ ‡

Leslie saw to it that Anna-Kristina and Natalia were well and truly aboard the noon charter when it took off for Honolulu, and at lunch she gave Roarke a progress report. "It still seems a little peculiar to me that he'd insist they go, under the circumstances," she mused, sipping at raspberry lemonade. "Why would anyone do that?"

Roarke looked up; there was an odd quality to his expression, and she wondered what was on his mind. "Mateo has always been extremely private," he said. "I am afraid it would quite amaze me if he accepted any other visitors while Anna-Kristina and their daughter are away." He offered no more information than that, leaving Leslie wondering what was bothering him.

"Just seems kind of overly macho to me," she murmured.

Roarke smiled at that. "Perhaps so," he said, "but I think there's more to it than that. Mateo says very little, Leslie, but it's my belief that in the wake of the accident that was brought on by his narcolepsy, and the resulting limp, he sees himself as fundamentally weakened, and doesn't like for others to see him that way. He worked for me in some capacity from his high-school days, by which time his parents were already deceased. He had to support himself; like you, he had no other living family. And until he met Anna-Kristina, he had never set foot off this island."

"He never really left again after they came back from Lilla Jordsö, either," Leslie said, thinking back. "In fact, he shouldn't even have gone to Coral Island back in December, now that I think of it. Christian said he had to send him only because Julianne wasn't available—she was handling a service call, and Mateo volunteered to go." She frowned. "I thought Coral Island was better developed than that."

"Coral Island receives a great deal of rain," Roarke said, "and it's not as developed as it appears to anyone coming in via the American military base. Since the attacks of September 11, 2001, security has tightened greatly, and there is little, if any, intermixing between base residents and those in the native village on the other side of the island." He saw her perplexed look. "All servicemen and their families who are transferred to the Coral Island base are vaccinated against various tropical diseases, including malaria, before they leave the United States. The natives there have no such protection, and my jurisdiction is limited to this island only. I can protect only those who live here, and I have done that to the very best of my abilities. I've seen to it that mosquito breeding areas are drained, I've made certain that all islanders know that vaccines are available for their use. But even I cannot make anyone take preventive measures, and clearly, Mateo did not."

"You'd think he would," Leslie said, amazed. "He has more than enough common sense to know that it was just prudent. Maybe it was that 'macho man' thing again, but that would've been carrying it to extremes."

Roarke shook his head. "Unfortunately, speculation will do us no good now. In spite of all we could do, Mateo was infected, and now we can only hope that he will recover. In the meantime, I have been in contact with the base, and the officials there tell me that they are contemplating drastic measures—isolating the base from the rest of the world, for one thing. I have a meeting with the island council tonight in regard to the matter."


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § -- February 3, 2005

On an unusually rainy Thursday morning Leslie e-mailed Christian at the castle:

_Hi, my love,_

_You're asleep as I write this, but I wanted to contact you anyway. It's raining oceans here, which has been getting us some grumbling calls from vacationers but is doing the flora around here a world of good. The leaves have been dusty for weeks. You should just smell that wonderful rain scent in the air right now._

_I wish I had better news regarding Mateo. I stopped in at your office yesterday, and Julianne and Anton had gone in to see him. Beth and Jonathan said they'd been getting used to working without you or Mateo in the building, but that it made things pretty glum with him sick and you on the other side of the planet. Jonathan's trying to keep up spirits by being his usual half-insane self, so at least nothing has changed in that department...smile!!_

_At any rate, while I was there, Julianne and Anton came back and said he's still just as sick as ever. Julianne thinks he's lost weight, and she's probably right. Mateo's doctors have found that he has a strange mutated strain of the disease that seems to be resisting all efforts at treatment. The island council is seriously considering closing all the schools till word comes from Coral Island that the threat's been contained. The grand poobahs at the Air Force base have gotten the go-ahead to get into the native village they share the island with and try to vaccinate as many people as they can. They'll have their work cut out for them...those people are primitive and very superstitious. They're in touch with Father, and if the efforts are discouraging, I think they'll go ahead and close the schools._

_Otherwise, the triplets are doing just fine. They're all hitching themselves across the floor on their stomachs in a way that makes them look a little like they're swimming. Did all the nieces and nephews make it back okay from Australia?_

_I love you and miss you!_

_Love, Leslie_

She sent the message and rested her chin in her hand atop Roarke's desk, gazing out the open French doors at the rain. It was coming down heavily, but there was no wind, so the interior remained dry while the fresh aroma of cool rain-washed air filled the study and the liquid splat of raindrops on the patio's flagstones soothed her spirit.

Roarke, carrying a large black umbrella, came into the house via the patio then. He put down the umbrella, shook off the excess rain and leaned it against an open door before coming fully inside. "Any calls?"

"Nothing," she said. "I checked with the hotel and they've been busy with room service, and the casino's busy; but the pool, stables and amusement park are dead. Mariki and the staff have been back and forth to the bungalows, and the triplets are asleep."

"I see," said Roarke. "News from Christian?"

"I just sent him a message, and it'll be awhile before I hear back. Did you go and see Mateo? How is he?"

"There's been no change," said Roarke quietly, coming to sit behind the desk as Leslie got up and moved back to the computer. "He looks frail, but he does receive visitors when they arrive, and he seems in good spirits."

"How do you think his chances are?" Leslie asked, her voice low.

Roarke shook his head. "There are too many variables. It's a strain of the disease that the doctors are not completely familiar with, but their hopes are high, and they are trying different medications in an attempt to conquer it. Mateo himself seems in good spirits. But there is no way to know precisely what the outcome will be."

They worked in silence after that, the only sounds in the room the rain on the patio and the steady, soft ticking of the grandfather clock, which gently chimed out each quarter hour as the afternoon grew older. Eventually the rain slackened and faded to a drizzle, and the triplets began to make noise overhead, giving Leslie and Roarke a welcome distraction.

It was like this for the next few weeks; Roarke's business kept them both occupied, especially on the weekends, and Leslie stayed in touch with Christian via e-mail. As February slipped away, Mateo held his own for a while, then gradually began to decline. The doctors tried new medications, and he fought back for a few days, raising hopes.

§ § § -- February 27, 2005

It had been a busy weekend: one guest was living out his fantasy of experiencing the 1849 California gold rush, the other hers of being a celebrated clothing designer. It was late morning and Leslie was acting as announcer for a runway show in which their second guest had entered a number of her creations; Roarke had just returned from checking on their first guest and was sorting through a stack of letters that had arrived that morning. The Fantasy Island post office dealt with so much mail that Roarke got deliveries seven days a week.

The phone rang and he trapped the receiver between his shoulder and ear, slicing cleanly through envelopes with a letter opener. "Yes?"

"Mr. Roarke, good morning, this is Dr. Lambert at the hospital. Are you too busy to make a trip over here?"

"No, not at all, Dr. Lambert. How can I help?"

There was a hesitation. "It's Mateo Apana. He's asked to see you."

Roarke stopped slicing. "May I ask why?"

"I…think he has a request to make of you," Dr. Lambert said. "That's all he would say."

"Very well, doctor, I'm on my way," Roarke said. "Thank you." He hung up and set the mail aside, then went to the stairs and called, "Haruko?"

Haruko Miyamoto appeared at the top of the steps. "Yes, Mr. Roarke?"

"If you hear Leslie return, let her know I've gone to the hospital," he said. "I am not certain what time I'll be back, but I hope to be here for lunch."

"I'll tell her," Haruko promised, nodding. He smiled his thanks and left the house.

He took a jeep, and in a few minutes had reached the hospital, where Dr. Lambert was waiting in the lobby to meet him. She led him back to Mateo's room, speaking low on the way. "I didn't want to say this over the phone, but it doesn't look good. He's been getting weaker as time goes by, and the blood samples bear out his condition. Do you…I was going to ask…since we've tried everything and it ultimately fails…well, do you think even a tiny bit of amakarna would help?"

She said this almost in a whisper, and Roarke frowned. Amakarna was useful in successfully treating only a limited number of terrestrial diseases, most notably tuberculosis; it had proven ineffective on malaria, as his own family had learned centuries past. "I am afraid the spice would be useless in this case," he said quietly, as gently as he could. "I wouldn't advise too much dependence on amakarna in any case. It's far too unpredictable."

Dr. Lambert nodded soberly. "Well, I had to try," she said.

He smiled a little and said, "Of course, doctor. Why don't we go and see Mateo."

Dr. Lambert led him to Mateo's room and opened the door for him; Mateo was sitting up in bed, still looking weak but with more color in his face. "Thanks for coming, Mr. Roarke," he said, soft-spoken as always. "I wonder if you'd help me."

"I can certainly try," Roarke said, taking the chair next to the bed. "How can I do so?"

Mateo drew in a slightly labored breath and got a resolute look about him. "If you would, please, sir, help me write a letter to my wife. The materials are in the table there."

Roarke studied him for just a moment, then nodded, reached for the drawer in the bedside table and withdrew a pen and a yellow legal pad. He handed them to Mateo, who carefully laid them on his lap and slowly wrote out several sentences. But even as Roarke watched, Mateo's meager strength began to ebb, and his hand slowed more and more on the page, till it was all he could do just to hold the pen. Muttering something resigned-sounding under his breath, Mateo turned to Roarke. "If you don't mind, sir…"

Roarke nodded understanding and took the pad and pen from him. "Go ahead," he prompted, and for the next ten minutes he wrote while Mateo dictated, faltering every few sentences as though he were groping for the proper thing to say.

Finally Mateo let out a sigh and focused on Roarke. "I think that's all," he said. "Could you please call Dr. Lambert in here, so you and she can witness my signature?"

Roarke, silent, nodded agreement, stepped into the hall and caught the attention of Dr. Lambert, who was conferring with several nurses some distance away. She excused herself and approached, asking, "What's happened?"

"I've just completed a letter Mateo wished to leave his wife, and now he would like you and me to witness his signature," Roarke explained.

Dr. Lambert's expression carried discernible alarm, but she held her composure. "Of course, Mr. Roarke." She didn't say any more than that; she might have remarked that she hoped he wouldn't need it, but it was clear that they would only be wasted words. They both knew Mateo had accepted what was to come, and wanted to square things while he still had the ability.

They sat down at Mateo's insistence and watched him slowly, painfully, move the pen over the paper, laboriously forming the letters in his name. Then Dr. Lambert added her signature, and Roarke followed suit. Dr. Lambert made a cursory check of Mateo's IV bags, then departed after accepting the patient's thanks.

"If you would, Mr. Roarke," Mateo said, voice barely audible, "please take that sheet with you, fold it and place it in an envelope for Anna-Kristina. As soon as she arrives, please give it directly to her. I want her to read it in your presence, because you're the highest authority on the island and can answer any questions."

"Very well, Mateo," Roarke said, his own voice low and grave. "We'll do exactly as you ask. Is there anything else you need to make you more comfortable?"

Mateo lay still a moment, then slowly shook his head. "No…I think not. The strength I had…it's gone now. Just please make it clear to Anna-Kristina that I love her, and that I love Natalia, and I don't…" He gasped a moment, then swallowed. "I don't want any fuss made over me. Just bury me in the public cemetery next to my parents."

Roarke nodded. "We will do so," he said gently. "I have been privileged to know you, Mateo. You were always a fine employee, and I know you will be missed."

Mateo opened his eyes and managed a weak smile. "Thank you, Mr. Roarke. I feel fortunate…" He gasped again. "Fortunate that I've lived my life…here on your island."

The two men's gazes held, and Roarke returned the smile with some effort. When Mateo closed his eyes and relaxed, Roarke turned and left him for the final time, his steps slow, his emotions under careful control.


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § -- February 28, 2005

Leslie was strapping triplets into car seats for the trip home when Roarke came out and stopped at the top of the porch steps. He stood for a long moment, watching Leslie as she secured her children for their ride, and said nothing till she straightened up and saw him standing there. Something about his stance must have communicated itself to her, for she had the feeling something had gone very wrong. "What is it, Father?" she asked.

Quietly Roarke told her, "Mateo passed away this morning. I just received the call; it happened while we were seeing our guests off."

Leslie's stomach did a couple of back flips and she swallowed before finding her voice again. "Oh…oh my God, poor Anna-Kristina."

Roarke nodded. "Would you prefer to notify Christian from here, or wait until you have returned home? You do have the triplets ready…"

"I think I'd better do it from home," Leslie said. "It'll give me a chance to get my mind around it. He was…he was always around, you know?"

Roarke nodded again and this time smiled a little. "I understand what you mean, my child. One might rarely hear him, but one always saw him." He came down the steps at last and down the brick walk to hug her. "I think it best if you telephone Christian for this. I don't like to suggest that he be the one to break the news to Anna-Kristina, but…"

"I'll think of something," Leslie said automatically, but even as the words came out she wondered what that something would be. While she was relieved not to have to tell Anna-Kristina herself, she hated to put that burden on Christian. "I hope he went peacefully, anyway. He didn't deserve to, well…"

"I know," her father murmured. "According to Dr. Lambert, he died in his sleep, with no apparent struggle. As far as they can ascertain, he simply ceased breathing." He gave her a squeeze, then released her. "You'd better go on home, so that you can get the word out as quickly as possible. The family will quite likely come out en masse for the funeral."

Leslie drove home in silence, too saddened by Mateo's passing to talk to the triplets along the way, a habit she'd fallen into since Christian had left almost two months before. She hoped it didn't matter to the babies; she didn't feel as if it would be respectful to Mateo to just chatter away, somehow. Her thoughts ran in uncertain circles, and she was slightly surprised to find herself pulling into her own driveway by rote.

She followed her Monday-morning habit of hitting the doorbell to summon Ingrid out for help with the triplets, and asked her to keep an eye on them while she made a phone call. Upstairs, she shut herself in the library and located the phone number to the castle, which Christian had written out with all the necessary numerical prefixes for dialing from Fantasy Island, and slowly punched out the number, frequently double-checking herself. To her relief, the connections went through and she got the castle switchboard after just one double buzz. _"Det Kungliga Slottet,"_ said a brisk voice in_ jordiska._

"_Dehär är Prinsessa Leslie som ringer,"_ she identified herself in the same language. She had doggedly kept it up and could manage rudimentary conversation now_. "Prins Christian, plissa."_

She heard an acknowledgement that she didn't understand and waited a moment, then heard at last, _"Ja, Prins Christian."_

She closed her eyes, a rush of relief sheeting through her for some reason. "Hi, my love, it's Leslie," she said. "I hope you weren't asleep."

"No, but you can call me anytime, you know that." He paused a moment, then asked, "Is something wrong, my Rose?"

"I'm afraid so. Father got word just after we came back from the plane dock. Christian, my love, Mateo died this morning," she said softly.

She heard him curse in _jordiska._ "I had been afraid of something like this! I hope he went without suffering. What did they tell Mr. Roarke?"

"He said they told him Mateo died in his sleep—just quietly stopped breathing. I think he'll be going to the hospital to handle the immediate aftermath, but right now I don't know what else is going on. I guess it'll wait till everyone gets here for the funeral."

Christian sighed so heavily she heard the staticky gust in her ear. "The island newspaper won't have it till tomorrow's edition, right?" he asked. At her affirmation, he went on: "All right, then, I think it's best if I tell only Anna-Laura and Gregory at the moment; we'll let the others know in the morning. Carl Johan and Amalia and Rudolf are just wrapping up their tour of the States and Mexico, and they won't be home till tomorrow; there's no way we can contact them till they're here and we're on Fantasy Island. I doubt they're going to be able to change their itinerary to get there for the funeral, but I think Anna-Kristina will understand. She knows about royal schedules as well as any of us."

"What about your employees here?" Leslie asked with some trepidation. "Do you want me to tell them, or—?"

"Oh, no, my darling, that shouldn't be your job," Christian said, his voice softening. "I'll do it tonight before I go to sleep. Are you all right, Leslie, my Rose? You sound…" He hesitated a moment, and she closed her eyes again.

"I just wish I didn't have to deliver this kind of news, in this way," Leslie said, feeling weary. "I admit I wanted you back home, but not for this reason." And just like that she began to cry.

"I know, my darling, I know," Christian said gently. "I feel exactly the same way. Try to hold on—I'll give my sister and Gregory the news, and we'll tell Anna-Kristina together, in the morning, and make sure her sisters, Roald, and Gerhard and Liselotta know. And we'll leave the news for Carl Johan and Amalia and Rudolf. As soon as we've broken the news to the rest of the family, we'll make travel arrangements, and if everything goes right we'll be there by tomorrow—your tomorrow, that is."

"You should get…get Errico's private plane to…to fly you here," Leslie blubbered.

Christian laughed. "As a matter of fact, that might be an excellent idea. It's going to be all right, Leslie. I promise, I'll be there with the others as soon as we can get in the air. If you need anyone, for fate's sake don't keep it to yourself, talk to Maureen or one of your other friends, or Mr. Roarke. I'll be home as soon as I can arrange it."

"Okay," Leslie managed. "It's just going to be hard waiting…it feels so strange. I love you, Christian, my darling."

"I love you too," he said gently. "I'll see you soon, all right? Let me go and start things moving. We'll be home soon."

§ § § -- March 1, 2005

Leslie was distracting herself by watching her children working off their lunch. She had been rolling a ball to Tobias, who eagerly hitched himself along the floor after it while "racing" his mother (Leslie usually let him win); Susanna and Karina were apparently happy enough to grind away on bright-pink teething rings while exploring the living room. Leslie had taken care to put knickknacks and sharp objects on higher surfaces; the triplets were about to turn nine months old, and she knew it wouldn't be long before the coffee table was no longer high enough to be out of their reach. Susanna was already trying to coordinate getting onto her hands and knees.

Tobias was on his way across the room after the ball again when the door opened and Christian let himself in, an eager, hopeful look on his face. The girls turned to stare at the newcomer; Tobias stopped moving and stared as well; and Leslie fairly leaped off the floor and ran for him as he dropped his suitcases on the floor. "Oh, Christian, Christian, you're home!" she cried, throwing her arms around him and—as much to her own surprise as his—bursting into tears.

"What in the world—?" Christian exclaimed, chuckling and hugging her back, stroking her hair. "Has it been such a strain for you, my Rose? Please, don't cry."

"It's been almost two months without you," she explained, her voice a little shaky, "and then Mateo's passing…I'm just so glad you're home."

"Believe me, so am I," he assured her, squeezing her and then releasing her. "I knew I would get a warm welcome from you; now let's see if the triplets feel the same." They grinned at each other, and then he pulled off his shoes and accompanied her into the living room. The babies were all still staring.

Leslie got onto the floor again and lifted Tobias so that he stood on her leg with her support. "Look, you three, Daddy's home," she said, aware of the unnatural brightness in her voice. "Can you tell Daddy how glad you are he's home again?"

Tobias, Susanna and Karina gave their father wide-eyed scrutiny while Christian settled himself on the floor beside Leslie; he grinned at each child in turn, then reached out and lightly tickled Tobias' tummy. The little boy squirmed away, giggling, then tried to turn in place on Leslie's leg and began to chant, "Na-na-na-na-na-na!"

Christian laughed delightedly. "How long has he been doing that?"

"A few days, that's all," Leslie said. "They all talk like that, actually. Karina was the first one to start saying 'da-da'. Maybe she'll say it to you."

For the next half hour or so, Christian and Leslie delayed properly greeting each other while they played with the babies and the babies got used to their father again. When Christian took over the game Leslie had been playing with Tobias, Susanna got in on it as well and began to chase the ball alongside her brother. Karina watched from Leslie's lap for a minute or two, then yelled, "Da-da!" and struggled to get off. Leslie put her on the floor and watched her husband playing with his children, laughing as much as they were, putting in time with them despite the fatigue and jet lag she knew he had to be undergoing right now. Left momentarily out of the fun, she was content just to sit and watch Christian working his way back into the triplets' memories, loving him more than ever.

When the triplets finally began to rub their eyes and yawn, Christian gathered Tobias and Karina into his arms, with Leslie's help, and took them upstairs, with Leslie following along carrying Susanna. The triplets were happy enough to go to sleep, beaming at both their parents when Christian and Leslie bent down to give each child a kiss atop the head, though Tobias had to be changed before he could be put down for his nap.

"So update me," he said once they'd left the babies' room. "Any pulling up onto their own feet? Crawling yet? What do they eat? Do they still like their baths?"

Leslie laughed and filled him in as they went downstairs and retrieved his luggage. They all ate finger foods, though they had definite preferences: Karina loved bananas, Tobias preferred bread, and Susanna was partial to Cheerios. "Tobias and Susanna both want to feed themselves, too," she went on, "but Karina seems happy enough to let me feed her. They're down to just one breast-feeding a day, first thing in the morning, and they've all decided they don't like napping in the morning anymore. They all still hitch around on their stomachs, but I can tell Susanna wants to crawl—she's trying to figure out how to get on her hands and knees and not topple over." He laughed, and she grinned back, continuing, "They all love their baths, and every time I bathe them I have to change my clothes and sponge down the walls. They splash like mad. I'm sure it won't be long before they start trying to stand. Dr. Corbett said that was fine—it was just about the first thing I noticed that they didn't do at the same time as the full-term baby. She said that usually, preemies develop a little later, at the age they'd have been if they'd been born full-term. We've been lucky, she told me. Ingrid and I have been childproofing the place, but I'd like it if you went through the house in case we left anything out."

Christian nodded amiably. "I can do that, no trouble." He put a suitcase down and turned to her, gathering her into his embrace once more and growing more serious. "And what of you, my Rose? You may not believe this, but I've missed you badly these weeks. My nephews are teasing me because I carry a folder full of applications around all the time—they call it my security blanket because you're not there." She giggled at that, and he smiled, then smoothed back her hair. "Are you all right? I know you're affected by Mateo's death, but otherwise?"

She sighed softly. "Doing my job, taking care of the triplets, missing you." Catching his smile, she returned it and nestled against him. "Father called this morning and told me that people have been stopping in all day to talk a little about Mateo or offer condolences. I expect traffic at your shop's been running high too, for the same reason. The notice is in today's paper, and I saved a few copies for Anna-Kristina." Leslie lifted her head and searched her husband's face. "How's she managing?"

"She hasn't said much, mostly just cried. Natalia's confused, and we've all been taking turns trying to keep her amused—she's too young to understand, of course, and it's been hard for us, keeping her happy in such a somber atmosphere. It was Gerhard and Margareta's suggestion that Anna-Kristina move back to Lilla Jordsö permanently, with Natalia. I think it's best myself. If she remains here, she'll merely have an excuse to drown in her grief, and that may very well take her down the same path her mother traveled when Arnulf died. And I'm afraid she'd also neglect Natalia in those circumstances. If she comes home, she'll be with family, she'll see that the people are sympathetic to her, and Natalia will have children her own age around. Plus, she can get back into the social and charitable rounds that make up most royal life, and that will help keep her from closeting herself away."

Leslie nodded. "I think you're right, that _would_ be the best thing for her. Maybe someday she'll even recover enough to fall in love and remarry, but it's enough that she isn't left to her own devices." She frowned and asked, "What's Kristina's condition?"

"Still the same. Living in a twilight world, not recognizing her own daughters when they visit. Gabriella says she's stick-thin and her eyes are sunken in, and those eyes apparently never focus on anything. She mumbles to herself, and when she does speak clearly, it's always as if she's at some party with Arnulf alive and well at her side. I myself haven't gone to see her; for all that, only the girls ever go, and increasingly rarely, for her situation is so obviously hopeless." Christian shook his head. "I can't believe she's held on as long as she has, but for Anna-Kristina's sake I hope it continues for a while."

"I wish there were something we could do. Arnulf dead, Kristina in another universe; Anna-Kristina widowed, Gabriella divorced, Margareta lonely, and all three sterile. Arnulf's girls deserve some happiness in their lives." Leslie rested her head on his shoulder.

"So they do," Christian agreed, then smiled suddenly. "Actually, if you want the truth, I think Magga at least has discovered it. She's been keeping company with a woman by the name of Gudrun; Magga told me she's fallen in love with her, but at the time Gudrun wasn't aware of it. Something tells me that isn't true anymore. They were at Natalia's birthday party earlier this month, and the way they looked at each other gave me the feeling that Magga had admitted her true feelings to Gudrun and was lucky enough to find they were mutual. She spends several nights a month in the city, and I expect she's with Gudrun."

"That's a good beginning," Leslie said with hope, and smiled back at him. "I'm glad that happened—we need a positive note."

"Ah, but I have another positive note for you," Christian murmured, shifting her in his arms and lowering his head. "And I intend for it to make us both forget for some time to come, so just forget the suitcases and come to bed with me." He kissed her, and she instantly responded, glad to let their cares dissolve away for a time.

They'd been in their own bed for a good hour or more, making love to each other and making up for the long empty weeks apart, when the phone rang and they looked at each other with identical expressions of annoyance that made them both laugh. "I suppose they think we've had long enough to properly reunite before we bring Anna-Kristina and Natalia back here," Christian muttered with mostly good grace. "Let me get that." He got up without bothering to put anything on and went for the extension in the library; Leslie could hear him talking in his own tongue for a few minutes before he returned.

"Who's insisting we come out of our cocoon?" she asked.

"Anna-Laura, and it's not really a demand, more of a request. I guess Mr. Roarke has dealt with the hospital, and we're asked to join everyone for the evening meal at the main house so that we can talk about the funeral, Mateo's wishes and what's to be done about the house they lived in. She also insisted we bring the triplets."

Leslie grinned. "Naturally. So how much longer do we have before we have to show up? I don't want to let go of you just yet."

Christian cast a quick look at the clock and smiled slowly. "Oh, we have plenty of time," he assured her. "And it's as well—I'm not through with you yet either."


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § -- March 1, 2005

§ § § -- March 1, 2005

The dinner was solemn; they ate with little conversation, watching Anna-Kristina pick at her own food without taking in much. The funeral would be at seven that evening, as specified in Mateo's will, which he had left behind with Grady Harding not too long after he and Anna-Kristina had been married.

However, the lateness of the hour didn't prevent quite a crowd of islanders from showing up. Many carried flashlights or sometimes primitive fire torches; they gathered in a solemn, respectful group not far away from the principal mourners, while Mateo was laid to rest close to the graves of his parents. The royal family and Roarke stood back while one by one, this group came to extend their condolences to Anna-Kristina. Tears rained down her face, but she was composed, as befitted true royalty, and patiently accepted the sentiments of each one. It was almost nine before the last one had departed and they were able to leave the cemetery.

Roarke took Anna-Kristina aside and said quietly to her, "Just before he passed on, Mateo asked me to help him write a letter, for you to read in my presence. If you can meet me at the main house at ten tomorrow morning, we'll do it then."

Anna-Kristina stared at him. "Instructions? Letter? I thought everything was in his will, Mr. Roarke."

"Not quite," Roarke said and smiled at her. "You'll find out tomorrow."

§ § § -- March 2, 2005

Roarke handed Anna-Kristina a sealed envelope with her name on the front. "I believe Mateo's intention was for you to read this aloud," he said. "You'll see that the handwriting changes some distance down the page, as he lost strength after a time and asked me to write while he dictated."

Anna-Kristina nodded. She was pale and quiet; her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, and he could see by her trembling hands that she hadn't eaten breakfast. She stared at her name on the envelope for a moment, while Roarke watched her in patient silence; at last she closed her eyes, pulled in a deep breath through her nose, and peeled up the flap on the back of the envelope, withdrawing the single sheet of yellow paper that bore handwriting on both sides. Her voice was faint and thick at first, but gained strength as she read aloud.

"_Dear Anna-Kristina, I know you will be grieving deeply over me when I'm gone. I know your nature. But as I've told you many times through our marriage, you need to be strong. Get that strength from as many people as are willing to lend it to you, and then hold your head high and carry on. I know you can do it. Natalia will need you, and you should do what's best for both her and yourself._

"_I have some urgent requests for you that I want you to carry out for me after I'm gone."_ Here the handwriting changed from Mateo's to Roarke's. _"First of all, as I said, take your strength from anyone who will lend you theirs. In the first days especially, you'll need your family. I know you well enough to know that you're likely to need them from now on, and that's why I want you to return with them to your home country. Make your home in the castle where you grew up, and when you need comfort, rely on your sisters, your aunts and uncles, your cousins, your friends. When you need someone you really trust, go to them, please—don't shut yourself up and waste away from pining over me. It's all right to grieve, my Anna-Kristina, but it's not all right to make it the center of your life. I don't want you following your mother into some odd twilight zone and leaving Natalia as orphaned as if you had also died._

"_When you've gotten properly settled into the castle and have your rooms as you like them, get out and get involved in all those royal duties you always reminisced about with me. Go to parties, take on some charities, greet your people, be seen with your family. Let Natalia become friends with your cousins' girls who are her age—it will be perfect for her, and much less lonely, as she grows older and can attend school in the same classes with Lisi and Viktoria._

"_And as I said, don't pine for me. It would be my preference that you didn't grieve at all, but I know you will. If you loved me as you so often told me you did, with all your heart, then please do this for me: when you've resumed a full and active life as the princess you are, don't ever turn down a chance to meet men. Children should have two parents if at all possible. Yes, please, keep my memory alive for Natalia, but don't let her go fatherless for one moment longer than it will take you to find a good man, fall in love with him as you did with me, and be married to him. Don't martyr me and our love and refuse to give your heart, or you'll find it a very lonely life, and that's just not good for you._

"_Christian and Miss Leslie will help you handle things. Take only what's dearest to you, sell or give away the rest, and put the house up for sale. If you have legal questions, ask Mr. Roarke._

"_If it's possible wherever I'm going, I'll watch over you and Natalia. If it's not, then just know that I love you, I loved you from the beginning, and I want you to live your life to its fullest. You're too young to sequester yourself. Keep living, not just for Natalia's sake but for your own. That's the tribute I'd prefer you make. You know that in my will, everything goes to you, and I know you'll provide for our daughter._

"_Be strong and well and happy, my Anna-Kristina. I know you will, one day._

"_All my love, Mateo Apana."_ Flanking his signature were those of Roarke and Dr. Kara Lambert. Anna-Kristina glanced at the latter two, then stared at Mateo's signature for a long moment before slowly folding the page. Roarke smiled, asked if she had any questions, and when she shook her head, he nodded.

"You might remain if you like," he said. "I'm told that Christian plans to spend the day accepting applications for the vacancy in his business, but Leslie will be back, and I'll let her go for the day if you need company."

She nodded; she and Natalia were staying with Christian and Leslie, and she wanted a quiet place to come to grips with the finality of Mateo's loss. "I'll wait for her."

Roarke said, "Very well. It shouldn't be long…please excuse me, I am afraid I have a number of tasks to carry out. Would you like anything?" When she shook her head, he smiled and arose, laid a hand on her shoulder and then departed.

That evening at Christian and Leslie's house, she ventured into the living room where they were watching a couple of episodes from the DVD of the first season of "King's Castle". They looked around, and Christian paused the disk. "What is it?"

"Mateo left me a letter," Anna-Kristina said, fingering the yellow sheet she carried in one hand. "Mr. Roarke gave it to me this morning, and I think you should hear it."

"Go ahead," Leslie said, exchanging a quick look with Christian. They shifted on the sofa to face her, and she slowly settled into a chair and just as slowly unfolded the paper. She seemed to do everything at half-speed, they'd noticed, as though unsure that any of her actions were right or proper. Patiently they waited, then listened while she read. It took her almost ten minutes because she frequently had to stop and recompose herself.

"What do you think, _Kattersprinsessan?"_ Christian asked when she finished at last.

She looked at him and winced. "I can't even think of dealing with it…I don't know what to do or where to start."

"It's already Wednesday," Leslie said gently. "You're leaving with the family on Saturday, and you don't want to leave unfinished business behind."

Anna-Kristina stared at her. "Are you telling me you don't want me to stay here? You want me to get out and go back to Lilla Jordsö so I won't constantly bother you with all my useless weeping and wailing, is that it?"

Christian leaned forward in his seat and said intensely, "Anna-Kristina, that's not it and you know it. Mateo himself urged you to go, and frankly, I think it's the best thing you can do, for both yourself and Natalia. It's not that we don't want you here, but you need the support system that you'll have in Lilla Jordsö—not just the family, but the people. We were given copies of _Sundborgs Nyheter_ on our flight out of the country, and Mateo's passing was front-page news. Quite a few people who walked by us in the first-class section asked us to pass their condolences on to you, and we could see that they were genuinely sad for you. Like it or not, Anna-Kristina, if you stay here on this island, you'd probably turn into a hermit—and you'd have to find some means of support for yourself and Natalia, now that Mateo can't. Briella has said she could use a personal secretary, and you'd be perfect for that, with your experience filling that role for your father when he was king. Natalia will have Lisi and Viktoria for playmates and friends, and schoolmates in a few more years. When you need a crying towel in your lower moments, one of your sisters, or an aunt, can be of help to you. Aunt Anna-Laura will understand your situation much better than you suspect. You have a place in _jordisk_ society, and you have a strong support system and a social life that will keep you from doing what your mother did."

Anna-Kristina took in his words in silence, her indignant expression slowly easing as she considered them. At length she sighed and said, "I guess you're right, Uncle Christian. I didn't think I wanted to see people, but I suppose that could change."

"It should," Christian said. "It's not good for you to crawl into a hole and pull the lid over your head, and certainly not good for Natalia. Now let's see—we know you're feeling overwhelmed, so if you'd like Leslie and me to take charge, just say so and we'll do whatever we can. The rest of the family can help too."

The next morning, Christian and Leslie, Gerhard and Liselotta, Gabriella, Margareta and Roald accompanied Anna-Kristina to the little house she and Natalia had lived in with Mateo, leaving the triplets, Gerhard and Liselotta's children, and Natalia at the main house where Mariki and her staff could keep an eye on them. Gregory and Anna-Laura went out to the Enclave to check on his house there, saying Anna-Kristina already had plenty of help and they'd merely be in the way.

The house was an unassuming place, surprising Anna-Kristina's sisters and cousins when they caught a glimpse of it. "You lived here?" said Gerhard in surprise.

"Two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room and one bathroom," Anna-Kristina said and smiled wistfully. "We didn't really need more than that. At least, that's what Mateo said. I wanted him to be happy, and I knew this was where he was happy, so I was happy too."

"It's very tidy and attractive," Gabriella said, surveying the neatly mowed front lawn and the little flower beds fronting the house. "Did Mateo live here already when you were married to him?"

Her sister nodded, and Leslie smiled. "Mateo had probably lived here ever since he could afford a place. His parents' house must have held too many memories. I know where it is, but it's been a long time since anyone's bothered with it. Mateo, or his parents, might have left papers behind there."

Anna-Kristina, unlocking the door, shook her head. "Maybe some other time. It'll be hard enough to do this."

Inside, they surveyed the living room, and then Christian cleared his throat. "I think it's better if we do this in teams," he said. "Anna-Kristina, you and Magga can handle the room you and Mateo shared. Leslie and I will take the kitchen; Gerhard and Liselotta can pack Natalia's things, and Roald, you and Briella can begin here in the living room. I'd advise you not to worry about furniture; the house can be sold furnished, and you need bother only with such things as clothing, your personal possessions, Natalia's toys and so on. If anyone comes across something that doesn't fall obviously into the 'take it' or 'leave it' category, ask Anna-Kristina. If she's confused, you can check with me or Leslie."

"By the way," Leslie added, "there might be some things Anna-Kristina won't want to sell with the house, but for whatever reason won't be able to take with her. Anything like that, just put it aside and we can sort through it later."

"What of my cats?" Anna-Kristina asked.

Her sisters and cousins groaned, and Liselotta grinned. "You've got cats here too?" snorted Roald. "We should've known!"

Christian rolled his eyes, and Leslie shared her own grin with Liselotta. "That'll be enough," Christian said. "My Rose, do you have any thoughts?"

Leslie considered it a moment. "Tabitha might take them," she said. "Two of her cats have passed on in the last few years, and she'd probably welcome new ones. I'll check with her and find out for sure. Just for now, Anna-Kristina, they can stay here and you can feed them as you normally do. Well, let's get going."

As the day wore through and items were relegated to one or another category, Leslie made a trip into town long enough to lay in a supply of boxes and other packing materials. The packing went quite well until late in the afternoon, about half an hour before regular suppertime at the main house where they would all be eating again, when Christian and Leslie had finished cleaning the kitchen and begun to make a tour of the house to see what had been accomplished so far. "Don't tell me you're finished already," complained Roald with a grin. "You gave yourselves the easy job."

"Well, it did help that we used up a good bit of food to have lunch here," Leslie teased him. "Whatever's left, Christian and I'll take home with us. But I think you've made about all the progress you can in here." The living room was cleared out, with only the furniture, curtains and electrical fixtures remaining.

"There wasn't that much," Gabriella said. "A few knickknacks, some framed photos, and a lot of old magazines. I expect Gerhard and Liselotta had more to do than anyone else."

"I doubt that," said Gerhard's voice from Natalia's bedroom. "I do have a question, though. Should the crib and other baby furniture really stay with the house? Whoever buys it may not have infants, after all."

Margareta came out of the other bedroom. "Can it be sold, Aunt Leslie?"

Leslie nodded. "No problem. Where's Anna-Kristina?"

Margareta said with some impatience, "She's dawdling. We've packed away all the bathroom things and the bedding, and she's packing her own clothes right now, but she won't touch anything that belonged to Mateo. Every time I suggest it, she gets red and turns away from me, and won't discuss it."

"All right," said Christian, "then if anything else needs to be sorted here, you can help with that. Leslie and I will check on her." They left the others going through small items and went back to the larger bedroom, where Anna-Kristina was slowly going through the books in a bookcase in the corner.

"How much is left?" Leslie asked.

Anna-Kristina turned and stared at her. "Too much," she said, biting her lip. "I can't bear to move Mateo's things. Most of the books are his, and all the remaining clothes and shoes, and anything else…" She fought back a sob, but her tears overflowed. "Please, I can't do any more. I don't want to deal with it. If something has to be done with Mateo's things, I'd rather not be the one doing it."

Christian and Leslie looked at each other, and Leslie cleared her throat. "Okay," she said, "if you want, I can handle Mateo's things. Is there anything special you want me to do with them, or what?"

Anna-Kristina shrugged. "Do what you feel is best," she said painfully. "Magga's told me five times already that I'm taking too many things back to Lilla Jordsö as it is, and I'm tired of her lack of understanding." She looked at Leslie plaintively. "I know you'll take care of them, you have more respect than she does."

Leslie smiled a little. "Okay," she said. "Christian's been screening applicants for the manager's position in his office, so he'll be at work tomorrow handling that, but I should be able to wrap things up for you here. You can just leave the house key with me."

Christian nodded agreement and added, "Once we're on the way back to Lilla Jordsö, Leslie will look into putting the house on the market. For now, why don't you go out to the living room and make sure your sisters and cousins aren't discarding things you might want to keep. You have the last word on yours and Natalia's possessions, you know." He grinned at her alarmed look and stepped aside to let her rush out; then sighed softly and looked at Leslie. "Do you think the utilities need to be disconnected? It's a small enough island, I'd think that the same telephone number and phones can remain, and there wouldn't be any need to shut off the electricity or the water."

"Probably not, but I'll check with Father on that," Leslie said thoughtfully. "I think we can call it a day, anyway. Mateo's things can wait till tomorrow."


	5. Chapter 5

§ § § -- March 5, 2005

Both Christian and Leslie had been unusually busy after the initial housecleaning, and Leslie had never been able to get back to handle disposal of the last few things remaining before the house went up for sale. The only thing she had been able to accomplish was the care of the cats; Tabitha had been more than glad to adopt them, and had expressed her sorrow over Mateo's death and hope that Anna-Kristina would be able to find solace in returning home.

Now she and Roarke were at the plane dock with the triplets, saying goodbye to the departing royal family, and her mood was a little heavier because Christian was leaving as well. He hung back, seeing her expression, and when he had a chance he turned to her and hugged her hard. "You don't have to say it," he murmured, "I've already been gone too long. I made up my mind the other evening that I'm going to put the fastest possible rush job on the hiring process that I can. I intend to be home again well before the end of the month, and when I get here I'm going to take a vacation—at least a week. I deserve it."

"You should spend time with the triplets anyway," Leslie said, nodding. "How fast do you think you can do it?"

Christian said determinedly, "I'm giving myself ten days and no longer. I'm going to cheat and pull Jörgen out of my Sundborg branch to help. He's been with me long enough to know what qualities I prefer in a prospective employee, and he can go through half the candidates I've chosen for interviews." His expression softened then at her grin, and he kissed her gently. "I can also set aside the problem of replacing Mateo. Anton turned out to have all the qualifications necessary for the manager's position, and I have no doubt he'll do an excellent job. He's assured me they can manage till I get back and have a chance to advertise the opening for another repair specialist."

"Good," said Leslie. "Since you plan to be on vacation after you come home, you can take your time going through applications and picking out someone you like."

"Exactly so," Christian agreed and kissed her again. "For right now, though, I'm afraid I'd better go. What would you like as a souvenir from Santi Arcuros?"

Leslie looked up at him and had to smile. "Well, preferably you," she said, making him laugh softly, "but if you insist on bringing me something, you could get me a doll in national costume, for my collection. I somehow neglected to do that way back in '93 on my first-ever trip to Arcolos, and I think it's time that oversight was corrected."

Christian smiled and promised, "Consider it done, my Rose. As soon as we've settled into our rooms at the castle, I'll e-mail you and let you know we're there, and once I've got a little more rest and made arrangements with Jörgen to make the trip, he and I will leave for Santi Arcuros on Tuesday. From there I'll call, because Errico claims to have an antique computer that balks at even a mere mention of Internet capability, and I suppose I'll have to at least replace it for him in the middle of the hiring frenzy." They chuckled. "Any message you'd like me to take to Michiko?"

"Just tell her to e-mail me—she's been lax on that lately," Leslie said. "And oh yes, ask Errico where that blasted wine is. It still hasn't gotten here!"

Christian blinked. "No? Well enough, then, I'll tell him I won't replace his computers till he gets that wine on its way here, and if necessary I'll stand by whoever does the actual packing up and shipping and make certain it's done. He knows we had a deal." Leslie laughed at that, and he hugged her one more time. "Before the family comes out here and bodily drags me aboard the plane, I'd best get going. I love you, my darling, and I promise to be home within three weeks at the most." He bent down and gave each triplet a kiss atop the head, planted one last kiss on Leslie's lips, called a goodbye to Roarke and half ran up the ramp to the waiting charter.

On the way back to the main house some fifteen minutes later, with the plane well on its way to Honolulu, Roarke looked curiously at Leslie. "Were you ever able to return to Mateo and Anna-Kristina's house to finish cleaning?"

"No, things got kind of crazy," Leslie said. "I'll probably do it Monday. Ingrid should be able to handle the triplets for a few hours after they have breakfast, and I'll drop over there and see what needs to be done."

She kept her word; on Monday morning around ten or so she left the triplets in Ingrid's capable care. The babies were used to her and she enjoyed playing with them; Leslie and Christian had encouraged her to speak her own tongue with them, to help reinforce their dual-language instruction. Leslie was happy that Susanna, Karina and Tobias had some measure of independence now; once the morning breast-feeding was complete, she could leave them with Ingrid on her days off and do food shopping or whatever else might need to be done.

In about twenty minutes she pulled onto the side of the road in front of the little one-story house, which somehow looked forlorn and abandoned to her now that Mateo had died and Anna-Kristina and Natalia had made the move to Lilla Jordsö. She let herself in and took a quick look around. The boxes destined for Lilla Jordsö had been shipped out already; the remainder of them, Leslie thought, might fetch some cash at a yard sale. She'd gotten the go-ahead for this from Anna-Kristina, and her friends had agreed to help her organize and run it; of necessity it would have to be held on a weekend, but Leslie hoped to be able to drop in on it frequently and monitor its progress.

The only things that hadn't yet been packed away were Mateo's clothes and a number of personal effects, all still in the bedroom. She headed that way, with a strange feeling of loneliness, as if the seeming abandonment of the house had reflected on her. The furniture looked stark, without afghans thrown over the back of the sofa, magazines on the end tables, a centerpiece on the kitchen table, or sheets on the bed. Her footsteps echoed on the wood floors, and she absently noted they could use a polishing.

Though it felt a little like intruding, she made herself take down shirts and pants on hangers, remove the clothing and fold it into a box, and set the hangers aside for possible inclusion in the yard sale. When the closet was empty, she left the door open a bit and began to empty out dresser drawers, discarding a few things and saving the rest, trying all the while to remind herself that she wasn't some nosy intruder, no matter what it felt like.

The last drawer contained rolled-up neckties and a couple of stacks of neatly folded handkerchiefs, which turned out to smell just like the interior of the drawer. Clearly Mateo hadn't used them for a very long time. They were clean, anyway, and she cleared them out, then nearly dropped the final stack when the unmistakable crackle of paper echoed gently off the walls as she scooped it out.

Leslie turned the stack of handkerchiefs over and noticed a sheet of paper tucked under the bottom one, folded twice. She put the handkerchiefs in the box of clothing and turned the page over and over, frowning. Finally she shrugged and unfolded it, then went very still when she realized that she was holding a letter that dated from almost thirty years ago. The paper, like the handkerchiefs it had lain under, bore a slight woody scent, and she wondered if Mateo might have forgotten this letter was here, for it was his.

_Dear Mateo, I'm glad you've been able to get work with Mr. Roarke. It makes me feel much better to know that you'll be able to provide for yourself. I've been so worried about you. It's hard to know you, son; you were always so quiet, so self-contained. But I can see your strength, and it makes me so proud of you._

_The best way you can honor my memory, son, is to keep on living. That's the answer to the question you asked me the other night. Stay in high school and get your diploma, work hard, and you'll have a secure position in Mr. Roarke's employ, like your father before you. Just do your job and do it well, be a hard worker and a conscientious one, and you'll succeed wonderfully. And if you ever have a chance to marry and have a family, then do. I know it's hard for you, but don't deny yourself that kind of happiness._

_I'm so proud of you, Mateo. You're my rock, solid and steady. You're a breeze that refreshes my existence in this place. My only son. Take care of yourself, for me. Come and visit me sometimes when I'm gone, please. With much love, your mother._

By the time Leslie finished reading she had to blink back tears, and at the same time found herself wondering. Where had Mateo's mother been when she wrote this? What had she been dying of? A rock, she'd called him, a breeze. The two images clashed in her mind, yet she could immediately understand what Mrs. Apana had meant. Mateo had always been dependable, reliable, "solid and steady" as the letter had said; yet he'd kept her life fresh, and he'd made Anna-Kristina's life fresh, too. Had it not been for Mateo, Anna-Kristina might well never have learned a few valuable lessons—the most important of them all being her love for him, the love that had overcome her father's determination that she marry someone without flaws.

The steady rock, the fresh, gentle breeze. _A zephyr,_ Leslie thought fancifully. Mateo had been that, all right, and more that perhaps most people would never know about. She folded the note and slid it into her pocket to mail to Anna-Kristina later, smiling as she went on with her work.

* * *

_There will be more Fantasy Island stories in the future…I promise! (Ideas are still welcome!)_


End file.
